A Smuggler and His Princess
by Nataleia
Summary: "He's shunned himself for even getting her this far and he knows he's on borrowed strength, wherever the initial strength came from." Thirty short accounts through out their lives.
1. Before We Die

**Before Endor.**

Han Solo has shunned himself for even getting her this far and he knows he's on borrowed strength, wherever the initial strength came from. She's lying across the pilot's seat in the _Millennium Falcon_ and her small frame is almost maddeningly fragile in his arms. Exchanging long slow kisses, her fingers are entangled in his hair. Han closes his eyes and listens to the sound of their lips. He knows she probably hasn't known anyone like this and it only furthers his grasp more. Her lips are soft against his, like velvet washing over him and it's sending him over the edge. He breaks first and listens to the sound of her breathing. It's quick and light against his face sending his head into a spin. Its pitch is heightening with every gasp as she cranes her neck over his arms trying to catch some breath.

He has never thought her capable of rushing his thoughts like this. He pulls her back, longing for her taste and she whines softly against his lips. Han groans inwardly at her behaviour forcing him to crush his lips into hers more. Her back arches at his sudden move, rocking his already heightened senses. He caresses his tongue over hers, that bringing another murmured gasp to her mouth. His arms tighten around her and the urge to slam their waists together is becoming unbearable. He knows he shouldn't be doing this. Oh Gods he knows.

They break away again and he presses his face into hers, wrapping his hands around the back of her head. Their breathing has slowed slightly and Leia's hold has become weaker. _That's as far as I can go, princess_, he chokes out a whisper, kissing her neck because he knows, any further will be too far. But apparently she hasn't heard him. She is pulling numbly at his waist coat, whispering his name into his chest. He blinks in disbelief at the rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins and closes his eyes. He has never heard his name said with such desire and needing. His limbs have come to disobey him; his hands are running circles on the upper half of her leg and his head has rocked back in mental exhaustion. Chewie is away, the droids are de-activated and Luke is in an inn three miles away.

His head was pounding him with excuses - they were going to die tomorrow after all. He sweeps her up from her limp state and carries her through the shadows of the _Falcon_. Her hands are bound around his forearms and her eyes are closed. His bunk is soft enough, he reasons. He lies her down and the almost sick feeling of ecstasy rebels against his stomach. Her hands release themselves and slide down to his waist. He smiles and clamps his hands around her impossibly small thighs, motioning himself against her, listening to the sound of his name.


	2. Smile For Me

**Yavin IV - The Battle is Won.**

He knows what she's going through. He doesn't pretend to understand, he doesn't pretend to believe that because he is older, he knows what she is going through, nor belittle her on the matter, because he knows it would only worsen the pain inside her chest. He knows it'll get worse. He knows there will be times when she'll want to give up, when she'll want to pass the burden onto someone else's shoulders. There will be good days, days where the pain will seem numb and there will be bad days, where a pain will summon its self from nowhere and there will be no answers, no fixes to make it go away, and she'll be strong because he knows it.

She has lost her civilization. She has lost her father, her home, her bed she'd wake up in every morning. She's lost the view outside her window that she would wake up and see every day. She's lost the sound of those footsteps she'd hear every sunset, the footsteps of Bail Organa pacing the corridors to his chambers. She has lost the smell of her freshly cleaned clothes which would be piled up in her chamber every night for her to put away and in this, she has lost security. She was only a nineteen year old girl after all.

For once in her life, she is looking down on him now. Standing on a higher ground. Her long flowing dress falls around her anatomy like a sheet. Her hair, as usual, is pinned back and tied up from hours of maids and servants poking and prodding her. Her eyes are shadowed, and it is not the result of fatigue or monarch life which have resulted in this. Those shadows had formed from hours of crying he had born witness to the night before. She had shooed him away, in embarrassment of course, but he had ignored her and sat with her the entire night listening to her pour her heart out. He'd gotten through a few Alderaanian ales that night.

But in contrast, she is smiling now. That beautiful heartfelt, warm smile he has learned to love over the last few days. The smile which he has yearned to see even after meeting her for only three seconds. The smile which had turned to a blush when he had winked at her. The smile which bought empires to its feet. The smile which reminds him of a child on life day; the glistening gold flakes which shimmered in her eyes almost meriting the damned, wretched smile he knows he is falling for even as he looks at her.

She is smiling, because after losing everything, he knows it's the only thing she can do.


	3. Drink Me Sober

**Before Dathomir.**

He's drunk when he gets to her room and he's fully aware of it. He has made his way to her chamber, clinging onto all manner of banisters and surfaces to keep him up right and he's lucky he hasn't broken anything. He comes to her floor and knocks on her door once. No reply. He leans against the door frame limply and waits for a moment, listening. He cannot hear anything but the rush of cold air outside the palace and there is a dim orange light peering out from under the door. He reasons it wont do any harm and he fumbles around with the door handle opening it lamely.

Leia Organa is sat, looking away from him, on her bed. Her soldier like duties have been left in the battle field for now, and she sits, relaxing solemnly. Her fingers drum lazily over her bed post matching the ticking of the clock in front of her. She brushes her fingers across her face, digging her head into her hands. She has been sat in that position for about two hours without moving. She needs to be alone now. Away from the Hapan ambassadors, away from real life.

He shuts the door with a slurred slam and walks over to her, containing his walk as much as he can. He hardly remembers how many Dodbri whiskies he's had. One to many is the only number he can form in his mind. He sees a smouldering fire lit beside her bed and gets to her in what he sees as slow motion in his mind and lowers himself in front of her to his knees. His hand clings onto the bed post for support and he ducks his head, leaning it on Leia's knees.

She doesn't react as he imagines. She tuts lightly and tells him he's drunk, something he doesn't need to be told. She asks how the real Han Solo would react if he saw him like this. The self-proclaimed hero who saved planets. She takes a dainty hand and brings it to the back of his neck and brushes it against his skin with the other brushing through his hair, memorizing the texture of it. He sighs at her brief touch and wraps his arms around her shins. _You can't marry Isolder,_ he whispers.

She blinks, gulping and hushes his pleads. She unwinds his hands from her legs and shifts her weight, lifts him and lies him down on her bed simulating their Bespin prison cell past. He catches her wrists on his descent and she gasps at his hold. It's a drunkard, bruising hold and her eyes crease at the pain. He sees the pain in her face and lets go immediately, cursing himself. She offers him a wistful smile and lifts her overthrow blanket from the bed and lays it over him. His deepened drunk breathing matches her footsteps as she walks away, he opens his eyes after a moment and watches her set a glass of water down next to him.

Drinking to forget doesn't work. He knows this but he doesn't want to forget her, only himself.


	4. Warm My Heart

**Before Hoth.**

He flicks a few luck-buttons on the console in front of him. He's been told to press this one, then that one - he has no idea what he's really doing. Everyone in Echo Base is asleep but he has been awake for three hours trying to find a way to tell her. He can tell her when they're alone, although, he values the idea of not having a smack across the face. He can tell her with Luke there, where he knows she won't react. Or, he won't tell her at all. He spins in his chair and flicks through the options in his head.

She's at the top of the steps then, looking at him. She's in her nightdress holding a comm-link in one hand. It seems he's not the only one suffering from insomnia. He stops spinning on his chair and looks to her presenting himself as some sort of villain. Her cheeks are tainted at his attention and she pads down the steps towards him. Her nightwear is short and white hugging her figure perfectly. He couldn't comprehend how she could stay warm in this cold. She stops in front of him and with two hands holding out the comm link to him without speaking.

It's frozen. It's lights are webbed by strings of ice covering the surface of the metal and a small whine is coming from the transmitter of the comm. She looks down to him for answers and he sighs taking the comm from her hands, twisting it in his. _I think he'll make it,_ he breathes. He scratches the ice off the comm, letting it fall to the floor and un-zips his jacket putting it in one of the side pockets attempting to warm it. She smiles gratefully and he watches her breath materialize before her as she shivers in the cold, he knew it. She turns to walk away but he stops her with her name and gestures an arm to his knee.

She stares at him in dismay for a moment and shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself. He nods smiling at her stubbornness, _No one's looking princess, _he teases. She shivers again letting her arms drop to her sides. There is no point in fighting at this hour in the morning. She retraces her steps slowly, watching him and lets him hook his arm around her waist, pulling her onto his knee.

She sits awkward for a moment and pulls nervously at her nightdress. Her umber-coloured eyes dilate in the darkness reflecting the lights fluttering on the console. He watches them through the shadows becoming oblivious to the fact that they were staring right at each other. He takes his hands to her shoulders and motions them against her skin, trying to warm her up. She quakes again against his chest and squeezes her limbs against her stomach. His skin is warm at the touch sending even more cold shots through her spine. He pulls his jacket from behind her and wraps it around her, pulling her into him. She smiles faintly, not knowing how to take the situation and rests her cheek against the top of his shoulder moving her hands to his chest. _Thank you, _she sighs.

Leia fell asleep there until the morning and Han carried her back to her chamber laying his coat over her. He can't tell her he's leaving.


	5. Crush These Walls

**The Dianoga. (Or to you, "The Garbage Monster")**

He's not sure why he's putting her safety before his. Why he was helping her first while the weight of the metal around his shins was crushing against his armour. Although the armour was an annoyance it was an advantage compared to the flimsy attire she was wearing, which he is sure was un-affective in saving her from a few scratches and scars. He brushes it off as heroism, as a duty. To protect those more vulnerably than himself. He only remembers it briefly,

They tried to brace it, an old school trick. He took the pole from the princess' hands and wedged it between the collapsing walls. It warped from the pressure and he tried desperately to heighten it between the two walls to keep it from snapping. Her wrists come into view at that moment and she grasped at the pole attempting to help. Her face creased painfully and her hold loosened at the weight of the metal. It was useless. He bound his hands around her waist and lifted her out of the debris. It was a complete paradox. Her form was wondrously soft at the touch, not the skin of a empire-stuck senate or the one which matches her pompous attitude. _Get on top if it,_ his voice cleared through the scratching of the walls but she protested in panic, clinging onto the wreckage.

The seconds he remembers most are the brief ones when the walls had halted. The look of curiosity in her eyes as he had made his way over to her. Her shaken limbs backed up against the wall. Luke had been shouting down the com-link excitedly but they only looked at each other silently, like two strangers. He had put a hand on the wall beside her looking down to her, slowly nodding for an answer. She didn't react verbally. Her eyes, her face had given him the answer he was looking for. _I'm okay._

That's when she had embraced him. Out of fear, he had told himself, her arms had collapsed around his shoulders and he'd pulled her in. His mind had counted the seconds over and over slowly. _One,_ he had felt the beating of her heart slamming against his armour. _Two,_ the shaking of her fear struck torso against his arm. _Three,_ the gentle press of her skin against his hand. _Four,_ Her slipping from his grasp and him turning away to Chewie in dismay hiding his expression.

He's not sure why he's putting her safety before his. He hardly knows her name.


	6. All Your Fault

**Bespin.**

_Where have you taken her?_ His arms strike into mutiny against his holders as the drag him through Cloud City but they hadn't listened, only pursued on forcing his feet across the cold marble flooring. They've taken her away from him and he's sure it's not for a good reason. He's asked them time and time again, and if Vader could smile, he would be grinning around about now. Vader waves his fingers then, and they stop with Han looking curiously up to the Sith. The guards switch open a door and through Han through, Leia catching him.

The princess straightens him up and he takes her hands, checking her face. The room is dark with vent like slits in the cieling letting light peer through. _Where are we?_ He hushes, but Leia shakes her head putting a hand on his neck. The frown on his face lowers, he's had enough of dinner dates. There are two Stormtroopers stood at the door poised to stop any escapees and Lando is no where to be seen. _What's going on?_ There's a malice tone in his voice which commands the guards to draw their blasters.

Leia grimaces at his behavior and smacks him arm. _You can't save us now, hero._ Her words hit him hard. They tell him he's the one to blame. He knows she probably didn't mean to rub salt in that particular wound, but he'd taken them to a man he knew he couldn't trust, a man who had deceived him in the past. This was the worst time to trust a stranger. He takes a hand to the crown of her head and kisses her forehead, like so many times before.

Suddenly the door sweeps open and Vader comes through harbouring more guards. Han's instincts jerk into defencive mode and he pushes Leia behind him, taking her hand. His fingers drift lightly over her knuckles and she squeezes his fingers in response. The Sith stands for a moment looking between the two of them. Han lifts his chin, examining the troops. Vader's breathing halts, and he waves his hand again, nodding. _Start with the princess._ His voice cracks through his hoarse breathing.

Han chokes as the troops tread towards Leia. It can't be good. His fist lurches forward and strikes the first troop in the helmet. He hears Leia yelp in shock behind him and the solider falls to the floor, dropping his blaster. She shouts at him to stop, but Vader has already taken care of that. Han falls to the ground clutching his throat. The bloody Sith. He gasps for air trying to stand but Leia's hands are on his back, keeping him in place. _I'll be back soon, _She reassures him_. _The guards take her arms and pull her out of the room and moments later Han's breathing returns to him.

Her pain ridden screaming didn't reassure him. He hides his head in his arms and drags his hands through his hair. It's all his fault.


	7. Smitten With You

**The Shield Doors.**

Leia is sat on the _Falcon_ in the middle of the Hoth Base huddling her legs to her chest. She can't sleep in her own room. The thought of being locked inside the room frightens her neanderthal mind and right now she needed to breathe. Everyone around her has assumed that she is okay, but in the night it haunts her now, digging away at her chest. She has insisted that she is, so people won't treat her like a love-lost child, though now, she longs for someone to empathise with her.

She heaves a sigh, resting her head on her legs. Her thoughts are a flutter in her mind, spinning around her skull demanding answers. She shoos them away closing her eyes. She doesn't want to think about the inevitable truth that they are probably dead. Or him. She has vivid images in her mind of him lost in the snow, slipping away in the cold ice and her, kneeling next to him in the snow trying to wake him up. If she had half the idiocy she has now, she would open the shield doors now and run head first into the snow to find him.

She misses his rude interruptions and the sight of his cocky smile when he has out witted one of the rebels. The moments when she can't fasten up her jacket and he pulls her roughly in annoyance and helps her. The quick-comic banter they throw back and forth at each other when they're talking on the coms. The rushed beating of her own heart when a remark he makes hits her a bit too deeply. Then after that the look on his face when he comes to the realisation of what affect he has on her. She'll deny these moments to him, but she's given up in her own mind. In there, her thoughts run wild.

Her hopes digress and she turns her head and rests her lips on her knees, closing her eyes. She imagines if she had gone with him, if he had let her. The two of them in the midst of a blizzard in the middle of the night, treading through the snow trying to look for Luke. The feel of his padded arms around her in the cold, shielding her from the snow and the warm _Falcon _oil smell of his jacket against her cheek, his lips against the crown of her head...

She gasps as she lifts her head from her knees, trying to shake those images from her head. She has drifted into an all too familiar dream. She turns her head slowly then, hushing her thoughts, and watches Chewie place a blanket next to her. She smiles in gratitude and he leaves her, patting a hand on her shoulder.

They'll make it.


	8. The First Kiss

**Yavin IV - In the Night.**

The first time the Captain of the _Millenium Falcon_ kisses Leia Organa of Alderaan is after the ceremony at Yavin IV. She is walking away from the Grand Hall alone in the night. Her white dress is shining against darkness and Han Solo watches it drift in the wind. He gathers her transport is waiting for her on the other side of the base but he decides there's no point in her being alone. He leaves the entrance of the Hall and goes to her, running down the dirt track. She turns at the sound of his shoes against the dusty track and they greet eachother with their titles. He offers her his arm and she takes it due to her enlightened mood.

The overhead lights shine over them casting elongated shadows across the dirt and he watches their arms swing in turn as they walk. Their words are breif at first. She asks him if he is happy with his reward and he nods in return, giving her arm a squeeze. There's a quietness in her voice, like she is almost shy to be around him with the lack of other human beings. Or maybe it is the fact that now she has lost everything, he has gained more than he has had in decades. He resents his own selfishness and places a hand on her back telling her he's sorry.

She smiles gently and shakes her head. She watches the insects glowing in the dim lights in the path and wonders if something so small and insignificant can understand the concept of what has just happened. Maybe it is just too big for their little eyes to see.

They stop at the meeting spot and stand in silence for a moment. It will be a few minutes until the transport arrives so he removes his hand from her back and places both of them in his pockets and watches her expression change wonderingly as she adjusts to the new feeling of insecurity, almost regretting the move he had taken. She says she'll see him soon and he nods again realising that he's made no real contribution to this conversation along with the feeling that despite what she is thinking, he may never see her again; an odd feeling he's never felt before.

The transport arrives and she smiles at him one last time before turning to the landing pad. But he doesn't let it be the last time. He uses her name this time and she turns in slight dismay at the sound which she had never heard before and he circles his arms around her and pulls her towards him. She almost pushes him away at the sudden move but once her mind is back in order she raises herself on her tip toes on leans into his arms and tells him goodbye for the second time.

He turns to kiss her cheek like he has seen so many of the gentries do from time to time and gathers that that is what she is expecting but she has done the same thing and their kisses collide. Her mouth tenses at the motion and his hands flare confused at his sides. He mostly expects her to pull away immediately but after an instant his hands rest at her waist, feeling her shoulders relax before his. He wonders what would happen if Luke had seen them, the look of jealousy in his eyes. He realises the one up he already has on the boy and lets the princess go with her confused expression.

The door to the transport opens and her head snaps towards the droid stood in the door of the car asking her for her destination and she tells him the number of the base she has been accomidated to, her hands falling to her side. The droid bows and the ramp lowers towards the princess' feet and she looks towards Han who still has his hands on her waist. She says thank you and he grins taking his hands from her, watching her walk into the transport.

He wagered it wasn't his help she was thanking him for.


	9. Ashes and Fire

**Only The Beginning.**

Because the battle is over and the princess knows she can finally rest, she is sat fifty metres from the ground in an Ewok tree-house watching the stars pass her by. There is no pain in her limbs which would've occupied her mind several days earlier only a feeling of relief like lifting a heavy stone from her anatomy. She is sitting against the bay with her feet positioned in front of her, her knees bent up sharply as her hands rest on them. She is not intimidated by the vast height that has collected below her as she lets the breeze flow over her, as she knows that she would be caught if she fell.

There is a baby Ewok asleep on her arm as the absence of its mother is due to the party still in full swing below her view. She had obliged to look after the infant as the others celebrated as she is probably the only one who wanted to have some time alone, away from the buzz of the party. It's fur is warm under her palm as she strokes her hand over it's back, watching it's breathing. She hopes the child will be bought up on the stories of their victory and will remember her name and will look to the stars and wonder if she is still there.

She watches the stars then, and they are so bright that she wonders if for all those years before this day she has been blind, as if they haven't been shining. She watches the fire-bright ashes from the party float up in the hot air from the ground beneath her and they dance in the breeze, floating into the hut and across her eye line into the shadows of the moon. The young infant's nose twitches at the smell of the smoke and she smiles as it sneezes gently.

She hears his voice then and turns to find him standing at the top of the ladder looking at her, grinning at the form in her arms. His eyes are wide from the celebrations and cheers from the party and he strides over to her with his coat in one hand and sits down next to her putting an arm over her waist. They smile in turn as he asks her how they are going to leave Endor now that they are part of an Ewok Tribe and she shakes her head, leaving him and returning the infant to it's hammock.

She doesn't stop to watch the child and returns to his side, sitting on the bay and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple. He tells her that this is only the beginning and there is so much more to face than tonight and she tells him that she's looking forward to it, closing her eyes. Because she's happy to know that whatever will come their way, it'll be their way and not just her own.

And in every pain she endures in the future she looks back on those words knowing they're true.


	10. Watch the Stars

**The Secret Corellian Base.**

As a child he would never have dreamed he would be where he is now. Mostly as a child he had dreamed of the big Collerian ships in the sky and the credits that they harbored on board. He admits to himself that now looking back at those dreams, they were petty compared to what he has achieved in the last three years. but then again, he still wouldn't mind a few more credits in his pocket, or something more.

He is probably stood a bit too close to her now, but as she hasn't moved away, he decides to take the same action. He is stood with her on her balcony on the Collerian Base and he has taken the silence as an opportunity to let his eyes wander. Her eyes are darkened in the shadow of the dipping sun and there is a soft light on her skin resembling an almost angelic glow putting the setting sun to shame. Her dress dips down to the small of her back revealing more of her skin and the lantern behind her shines a crystal blue shine on her back.

His eyes are still fixated on her when she returns his gaze. She offers no words of scolding when she notices his trance, only drops her head before her cheeks turn a pinkish hue. He follows her eyes and finds them to be fixed on his feet. Her eyes are closed and her hands are folded at her stomach, her fingers threaded through each other.

She smiles at their ineptitude, still feeling his eyes on her face and she lifts her head to meet his again, convincing herself they are now closer than they were before and asks him if he is staying in the base tonight, watching his hair sweep back in the wind.

His hand is lent on the balcony and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns it to the direction of his hand. He asks her if she is really that un-content on sleeping alone tonight and her voice stutters at his words and she turns to face the clouds again, hiding her face from him. The stars reveal her cheeks to have become a deeper red and he ends her embarrassment by telling her that he is staying.

Her eyes sparkle as she turns to him again, as all silliness has been forgotten, she says she has arranged accommodation for him so he can have the necessity of a clean room and a bed to stay in. She places a hand on his and her words drown out as he concentrates on the new territory he has found himself in. She had told him good night she is walking away taking his eyes with her.

He watches her disappear into the shadow of her chamber and wishes she had said yes.


	11. I Hear You

**Jabba's Palace.**

Her eyes are shut when she first realises where she is, and if it wasn't for the death threats surrounding her, she would scream. She wishes she could relax, but the coarse weight beneath her makes it impossible for her breathing to remain patterned. She doesn't lurch forward or gasp for air at the common fright she is experiencing but only opens her eyes to make sure that the slim possibility of the situation becoming worse hasn't found it's way to the surface.

It is dark when she opens her eyes and she watches the sunken heads of the guards as their skulls bob slowly with their breathing. It's a sullen sight she wishes she could shoo away but maybe it is one she will have to get use to for the rest of her life. Her brazen attempts at trying to talk Jabba out of her life sentence had only resulted in him tugging at the dog chain around her neck, making her spine ache terribly. If she can do anything, she knows she has to get Han out alive no matter what happens to her. They are not staying here for the next thousand years.

She hears his voice then. A faint murmur can be heard through the darkness and she leans forward closing her eyes in an attempt to apprehend the words, letting the chain clang against the metal of the platform. She's sure it's his voice. She dips her head and follows the sound underneath her and through the dungeons and listens to each low whispering syllable she has wished to hear for so long. But she cannot hear the words, like she is behind a veil she can only hear a buzzing tone which stops every so often to be responded with a gruff from the captured Wookiee and she resists the urge to shout for him.

She wonders what they are talking about, wonders what Chewie is telling him. Something she wanted to reclaim was the ownership of her own voice, not one which Chewie would throw forward on her behalf. Sure, she trusted and reguarded him as a very close friend but she knew any of her words which came from him would be different. They wouldn't sound as sincere as she had intended them to. To see that bewildered look on Han's face when she would tell him she'd missed him would be a first.

She had committed his voice to her memory, that evening they had taken him away from her. The same evening when his voice was merely a shadow of it's former self. The act of sadness imprinted in the sound of his voice which he had desperately tried to mask from everyone watching him as he descended into the smoke. And when it had vanished, it took hers with it.

After a few moments she hears his voice die down, like he is walking away from her and she moves forward trying to retrace his voice back to her mind again. Her attempts are unfounded when she feels the chain around her neck being tugged on and her head whips back as she winces, leaning back against Jabba's feel-sorry-for-the-platform body. After pulling the collar away from her neck and breathing again she looks up to her _master_ and watches his sleep-drown face shift in the shadows.

Han's voice enters her ears again then, and she relaxes into a slumber, becoming content with the hope that they will escape soon enough, with Luke's help, and she will have his voice back to herself again. As selfish as it sounds.


	12. Of Snow Angels

**Lost on Hoth.**

His frame is still when she finds him. When she runs to his side and falls to her knees in the snow she brushes the snow from his shoulders and pulls him around so he is lying facing her. His expression is calm. Though unconscious, it soothed her mind to know he hadn't been hurt and he is still breathing. He stole her affection for a moment as she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry now that she has found him and she brings her hands around his back and lifts him up slightly towards her and slides his goggles over his matted hair. His features sleep peacefully and she buries her head into his shoulder, thanking the Gods he is alive.

His limbs are cold and quaking slightly against her arms as she watches his face and she wonders how long he has been buried in the snow. The pressing thought that he could have so easily died softens her eyes as she continues to watch him. They had fought before he had left, she had ripped the notion out of every word he had spat at her while he followed her through the Echo Base and ironically she had revelled in the idea of his death and now she almost hates herself for it.

She leans away, on one knee, and rests her hands on his forehead as she watches the him stir. His features shift at the touch of her hand and his eyes open partly so she can see the devious look in them she has seen so many times before. He scans the cave before realising where he is and he smiles and tells her she's looking at him like she's never going to see him again, brushing a hand against her neck and she scoffs at his words, hiding her previous thoughts and pulls him closer to her, resting her chin on his shoulder.

He laughs, knowing he'll probably never see this side of her again and the hoarse, ice worn tone in his voice is evident in his words. He sits up, the snow crunching beneath him and returns her embrace telling her that now that are both lost and the end will probably be death unless, he asks playfully, she has another idea on how they are going to keep warm and his thawed out limbs crack, sending jolts through him.

She shakes her head feeling the snow falling from his shoulders and pulls his soaked through jacket off, replacing it with her own and he muses over the fact that he must've died to be in this situation and she leans him up against the cave wall, and tells him to keep his eyes open, to talk to her as his head drifts forward and she pushes him back up, watching his glowering expression.

She shuffles to his side and wraps her arms around her legs, bringing them to her chest and he asks her if she has bought any food with her, and she shakes her head again, leaning against his shoulder and she tells him he's lucky he didn't die when the speeder crashed.

She calls him an idiot for getting lost and he rests his head against hers, melted snow dripping from his tangled hair down her face as they wait to be rescued.


	13. In The Sand

**On the Skiff.**

He is blind when he finally has the chance to embrace her - in he doesn't know how long - and because he wants nothing else at that moment in time, he doesn't care for the pounding headache in his skull as the skiff glides through the desert. She is wrapped in Luke's poncho to hide herself from wandering eyes and her arms are still by her sides when he pulls her into his own. Her hands cling onto his waist through the cotton of the material in an attempt to return his hold, leaving her elbows clamped to her sides.

She feels exactly the same as before, her small frame against him, the gentle laugh in her voice, although he cannot be sure because the few times he has had her like this were mostly interrupted by droids or Siths trying to freeze him in carbonite. Only now it is through relief and needing that she has relented into his hold. He is by her temple when he tells her she hasn't changed a bit, that she is exactly how he remembers, and her head tilts so he can faintly see her smile widen as she watches his face and that is when, through his blurred vision, he can see everyone on the skiff looking away to the horizon, his mouth curving at the opportunity. So he furthers his daring behaviour and by almost missing, he claims her mouth for his own.

It is like she is being kissed for the first time and he is being antagonizingly slow and instead of meeting her lips, he trails small kisses across her jaw line. He feels her hands tighten at his waist as he moves to her face, pressing gentle kisses against her cheek before tilting his own head, so he could mirror the action against her other cheek and he feels her eyes flutter shut against his temple.

It is frustrating, to say the least as he can feel the warmth of her skin through the poncho she is wearing, so he tightens his grasp again until he is so close he can feel her lips brush against his and his smile subsides as he presses her against him, and moves his lips against hers.

A coarse breeze from the desert breaks their contact and he pulls away from her when he has trouble catching his breath and a soft sigh fills his ears then as she leans away, followed by a laugh as she leans back into his shoulder. She mentions his hibernation sickness, and that he needs to take it easy, but he simply wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses her cheek into his chest and tells her later.

He curses himself for not being able to see her and just rests on the line that he'll have to be a little more patient.


	14. As The Dream

**After The Wedding.**

She awakes, feeling the cool material of the quilt whisper over her skin. It's a feeling of bliss; the barely conscious, early hours of the morning when her eyes can hardly register the dull blue hue surrounding her, cutting at the moon light cascading over her out stretched arm on the bedding with the last remnants of her wedding sweeping past her.

Her eyes flutter open, her head lifting from her slumber and she traces the moonlight back to its source through the window. The moonlight is smooth on her face, tracing each feature until it melts into the shadows around her. Her eyes refuse to co-operate. With every blink they stagger more and more lazily and her brain relents telling her to go back to sleep. She smiles, feeling Han's hand come to the nape of her neck, and she turns to see his face still asleep in the darkness and his fingers press to her skin trying to pull her back down to sleep against him, his fingers threading through her hair.

She crosses her arms, leaning her head on her wrists and finds his face in the shadows. His features are subdued, sleeping even though the rest of him is seemingly awake. There's no wonder why he is so tired. It had been an eventful day, reminded by the white dress aptly thrown of the dresser's chair. He had remained consistent for the better part of it, though as he tugged at her hand as the reception drew to a close, she knew he had other things on his mind.

She gleams at the silver band on his finger against the stark white cotton of the bedding and places her hand over his, feeling her own ring skim across his and he returns her smile subconsciously. Her ring was considerably smaller than his and was light on her hand, like it was a reassurance of belonging, that she would never really feel alone again and she twists her hand in the faint light watching the glow emitting from it.

His right hand hovers over her back then. His fingers graze her skin, moving up her spine, her eyes becoming consumed by sleep at his action. The hours of silence she has been sleeping through are broken when his voice brushes past her ears mumbling some incoherent nonsense as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Or rather it is her own mind and she leans away from her arms, entwining her fingers with his.

The moon light moves over them throughout the night, only to fade into the rising sun hours later.


	15. On The Bridge

**After a Jedi's Departure.**

He struggles for an explanation. An explanation for why she is need of a sudden embrace. But he accepts it with an eye roll and chooses not to question the subject, leaving the air still. She is crying for some unknown reason, and the only thing he can do is stand and watch, rolling over the possible reasons for why he now has her tears soaked into his shirt and he pats her back trying to calm her, with the sound of the droid's story telling humming off in the background.

Han has asked her why. He has asked her why for about five minutes now but every time she has been reluctant to respond and has reacted as if she hasn't heard him, her hands clinging to him. And he wishes that she would so she could at least put his mind at rest. But she doesn't and a twisting pain swirls around in his mind because he can't shake the idea that it is because Luke has now gone and she wants, more than wanting himself, to have Luke back.

Luke has given himself up, he has apprehended that much and Han had borne witness to their romantic little farewell just minutes earlier. It may have been an invasion of privacy, or just a right to know the truth but as Leia had left the hut, he had committed himself to follow her after having a stern word with the golden droid. He had perched himself in the frame of a window, waiting for the opportune moment to go to her. But the moment had glued him to his seat and he had lost it.

He takes her face, moving a callus finger over her tears and pulls her eye line to his. Her eyes glitter, unshed tears lingering on her pupils and he asks her again why she is crying as though he is speaking to a timid creature hiding from the world and she stutters once, then twice and closes her eyes exhaling out a long held breath telling him she will tell him soon but for the moment, she cannot. Her face is distant, certainly not focused on him and her eyes wander off to the left, the rest of her anatomy facing him, his hands still on her face.

At that response his hands drop, because the pain has deepened and the crueller part of his mind is telling him that her mind is for someone else and her eyes look at him in dismay as he unhooks her hands from around his back and places them on her stomach. His eyes are closed and he turns on one heel, gulping and walks away from her, her sobs indenting themselves in his mind as he distances himself from the source of the pain he is feeling and he retreats into the hut, catching on the last lines of the story he has missed, drowning out the idea that her feelings for him have diminished.

Those minutes had seemed to go on for hours.


	16. By Your Hand

**Under Their Watchful Eyes.**

He's following her, and to add to her current mood which is spiralling downwards she has no idea of the bearings of the Echo Base and is endlessly walking in circles trying to get away from his ramblings. His voice is ricocheting off the walls. Stories of how being a Princess holds no boundaries for a man-like-him, of the life they could have together and the tone in his voice is enough to make her want to throw him out into the cold. But she just shakes her head and continues walking through the labyrinth of the base.

He circles around her, so he is in front of her and is walking backwards and she can see the almost demonic intent shining in his eyes when he smiles and she does everything she can to look away from him and she pleads the Gods for some sort of teleport to take her out of this situation. He pokes at her jacket, telling her she is a stuck up Alderaanian and that she is as cold as the ice beneath her feet and she glares at him, her dilated brown eyes boring into his, questioning how he can be so daring to insinuate such a thing and her steps quicken so she can circle around him.

She trips then, and to her relief, or maybe it is a curse, it is not the ground which catches her. It takes her a moment, through the incandescent glow of the corridors, to see her rescuer but after another moment of squinting through the cut air she sees his familiar grin and she straightens her posture trying to tear the infuriating smile from his face. She is barely conscious of the rebels watching her and her mind is not ready to act to the situation which she has fallen into and she stares at his hand for a second, watching it tighten around her wrist.

He pulls her closer, her eyes darkening as he circles her finger across her palm and her shoulders are inches away from his when he tells her that she doesn't have to fight it, that she would not be the first and she scoffs at his words, yanking her wrist from his grasp and the sound of her hand cracking across his face makes several rebels turn to see the captain's now reddened face turn slowly back to the infuriated Princess with a smile.

She jolts back as if she has been winded, eyeing the individual pad marks she has slashed across his skin and she wonders if it really did hurt him and she walks away, leaving him laughing. As the rebels drain out of sight, she breaks into a run trying to free the stinging sensation from her hand and the guilt burrows through her, as she remembers the bruised marks she had committed to his face and she stops at her chamber.

Resting her forehead against the door, she contemplates the life he had offered.


	17. Listen To Me

**The **_**Falcon.**_

She sits in the galley of the _Falcon, _her dainty legs hanging off the wood-worn table she is perched on, and he watches her from a distance, swirling a hot substance in the cup he is holding. He is sat in another section of his beloved ship and he can just make out her neckline and shoulders which shake every so often, shadowed by a barely audible sob and he has left her because he has gathered she needs some time alone, although she probably isn't aware that she is in the presence of him and he decides to leave it as that. She catches her breath, rubbing her eyes and she straightens her back, blinking her eyes.

It's probably the first chance she has had to sit down since her life had started, and it is definitely the first time the Ice Queen has let her guard down and the ice which has shielded her eyes has melted now and is trailing down her flushed cheeks. She has held the tears in for so long. Since Alderaan, since Yavin, she has forced them back and now it is bringing a sense of regret into him. Because he knows that if he hadn't bought himself into her life, he wouldn't need to feel the ache he does when her glazed eyes find his and look hopelessly into them.

He emerges from his hiding place, swiftly walking through the _Falcon, _harbouring the drink and his footsteps alert her to turn to him, but in that motion she immediately turns away, dabbing her eyes and her apology stutters from the intake of breath due to her tears. And he continues to walk to her, because she had nothing to apologize for, and he moves a hand to her cheek to sweep her hair away from her skin but she moves away, swooping her head away from him and she closes her eyes, shuddering again.

She needs to talk to him about it, because bottling it up inside would result in something worse and although she is a stone which can take any weather, he does not care to find her in a worse situation than she is now. He offers her his drink which he has hardly touched and she watches it, inspecting the contents and looks to his eyes for reassurance before he nods and she takes the drink in doubt and brings it to her lips and gulps down the warm liquid which instantly eases her tears.

He draws a chair, not in the least bit unhappy that he has given away his drink for the night, and he sits down next to her legs and tells her to tell him about Alderaan and she distances her voice, telling him she wouldn't know where to start, so he nods, telling her to tell him about her father because that is the first thing that comes to his mind and she starts with his name, reminding him that he was her adopted father and carries on, listing every memory of him she could remember.

He listened for the entire night until somehow he could list every aspect of her child hood.


	18. To Your Disbelief

**To Your Disbelief.**

The knowledge that the Rebellion needed her, that Luke needed her, and maybe the warmth of Chewie's fur as she clung to the Wookiee, was the only thing that stopped her limbs breaking into a run, to jump in after him while the icy smoke shrouded his eyes and throw her arms around him. In her realisation, she knew there was never a choice to throw herself away like that or to be frozen alongside him, because if anyone was going to free him, it would be her. And so she would leave it to no one else.

The medical droids of the Star Cruiser's medical center had thought her ill. The shaking of her hands had alerted them to believe that she was sick, malnourished from her imprisonment in Tatooine. But after several thorough check-ups and three glasses of water, they had come to no conclusion and had put it down to shock. They gave her medicine, told her to rest and take it easy. But she knew, and everybody else knew it wasn't the shock which had led her joints to quake like they did.

She had argued with Luke, over her second glass of water, though on his part is had barely been a whisper. As a newly knighted Jedi she knew he could see into the future, that he could see when Han would be back, where he was, and how they would get him back. But he refused her, told her that he was barely even a Jedi, and he couldn't see that far, leaving her to mull over the idea that '_far'_ meant far too long.

She didn't sleep that night. She lay in her cruiser cabin untouched by the sheets leaning into a comm which lay next to her on her mattress. It was petty, and she couldn't escape the idea that if someone knew she was in this state, they would peg her as weak; she hoped in the night that it would bleep and bring news that they could bring Han home. She curled up, tucked the quilt under her head and inhaled the fresh-material smell of the ready-made bed for her. Though otherwise comforting, it wasn't the _Falcon_. It wasn't the accustomed warmth she had grown to love over the last few weeks. It was everything but.

She is up now, and she takes the shower as an opportunity to re-new her wellbeing, and as the water winds down her face it entwines with her tears, staining her face. It will take her a while. To realise that she's not going to see his infuriating smile at every turned corner, that after the long weeks trapped on the _Falcon_ on their way to Bespin, she's not going to wake up to the feeling of his lips pressed into the crook of her neck.

The shower relents and she sighs, knowing that he is probably safer in that carbonite than she will ever be out of it and her tears cease.


	19. Just a Quick Drink

**Just a Quick Drink.**

It isn't the time to wonder if it had been safer, or even vaguely less dangerous to have taken his negotiations elsewhere, because right now the beams above Han's head are crashing, bending under the weight of the fire and enough lives have been lost today. His hands are stained with ash, with the powdered luck of the bounty hunters whose lasers had rekindled the tavern's raucous tastes for fire-light visits and he runs, evading the vicious sight of the former bartender who is now quiet beneath the smouldering weight of the bar, in false hope that maybe she is still alive.

With the words 'What's the worst that could happen?' He had believed her. As she was a Princess and she had been through the wars and back, and anything that could have happened now would bare no match towards blowing up Death Stars or upsetting Wookiees. She had smiled, her hand linked around his upper arm and he had become lost in her eyes, any sense of apprehension fading and walked into the tavern.

He stumbles, choking through the smog and his hands swipe blindly at the smoke in hope that he can have a visual aspect on the situation and he sees a bystander slumped on the floor, clothes singed jet-black. He is one of the innocents, someone who didn't need to be involved in this massacre, who only came in for a quick drink and his eyes are drowned and raw, hardly registering the room around him and when Han yanks him by the collar, lifting him from the ground, he barely looks at him and smiles, as there are only seconds left.

He demands to know where she is but the man tells him, barely chokes, no one could have survived, that the fire is too fierce and in those words his eyes darken and he draws his final breath, his head sinking. Han doesn't waste another minute because it only takes a minute and he releases the man and runs again, the roars of his Wookiee companion distant in the entrance of the tavern. A part of him tells him that if any part of their duo was going to die, it was Han, because Chewie had a family to go back to and he did not. His legs take him into the deepest part of the tavern and his breathing is slowing. Humans were never made for smog and this like.

He throws the cindered table stood between him and the door aside and he climbs through the collapsed frame. And she is stood before him, in the middle of the smoke like a lone dancer in an old cantina and he runs to her as she turns, as her limbs give way and her knees buckle until she has fallen into his arms. He pulls her closer, until he can feel her breathing, living and she chokes his name and grips at his shirt. She cannot muster another word, so he pulls her from the ground and tells her that she's safe, and carries her back to where the worst couldn't have happened.

They find a side street away from the watchful eyes of the authorities and he's not entirely sure if she's still breathing until she is lay against the cool stone of the path. She is wheezing in the most adorable manner and he can see the tears forming in her eyes but she appears to be keeping them from falling; it would a lot more for this woman to show weakness. He puts a hand under her head, lifting it up and tells her that he is so, so sorry but her voice hasn't returned to her yet, and she just smiles, the blackened ash still visible on her face.

He is greeted by a wide-eyed Wookiee and the eventual sound of her patterned breathing, assuring him that they are all safe.


	20. I Don't Know

**Coruscant - After Chewbacca's Death.**

He has never been so thankful for living on such a high floor in his Coruscant apartment. It's a refreshing notion being able to retreat to the skyline when the walls of his home became too much and stand atop the hundreds of apartments in the sky.

His eyes are vacant. _How could this happen to me?_ He swallows back his tears, feigning a smile towards the distant skies which stretch over Coruscant. Chewie _can't_ be dead, he pleads. He plants a hand over his eyes and begs every Deity he can name to bring back his co-pilot, in many ways, his brother. Because something in his mind has not quite registered that the oversized Wookiee could have ever stopped breathing. Could have ever stopped telling him that he's a Bantha stuck in a man's body. Wookiees like Chewie weren't made to die.

The trembling begins and his hand falls from his eyes to clasp his mouth. He should've been able to do something, _something!_ There must have been a way, instead of sitting there and letting him die! What would he have thought? The Wookiee had owed him a life debt and this is how he repaid him? By meeting it? Leaving him feeling betrayed, and hated. The tears threaten his eyes again and he pushes his emotions aside, burying them in the vault he has kept so many of his emotions and shuts his eyes and lowers to the floor.

He hears the repulsor lift slide shut and he doesn't bother to open his eyes when he feels the pads of Leia's fingers on his cheeks, her lips kissing away his tears. He ex-hales harshly and opens his eyes to find hers staring beautifully into his as she is crouched in front of him. They are strained and cold, and he knows she is thinking the same thing he is. He takes her tiny hands between his and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the fear of losing her. He pulls at her hands until she is forced to lean into him and he buries his face in her neck in fear that she and the life he had felt so comfortable in is slipping away from him.

He pulls her tightly and lets his tears roll down her shoulder. He is beginning to understand everything she went through. With Alderaan. With her family. And with every heart wrenching pain that tears through him he loves her, respects her even more for pushing aside everything she went through to save the Alliance and he believes he will get through the pain just as she did all those years ago.

She continues to stroke his back, his shoulders and tells him that everything would be OK. And he holds no verbal response, just leans a cheek against her shoulder as she gently rocks him back and forth. Neither of them speak after that, knowing nothing can be said that would merit their feelings towards Chewie's death. And after a long while they pick themselves up from the apartment's roof top and make it back to their apartment to the safety of their bed.

Once in their room, he clutches her sides under the enfolded sheets and whispers he loves her until sleep takes him.


	21. Away From War

**Bespin - Two Days Before The Carbonite**.

Peace. What an amazing feeling. She feels happy, so content with herself. Something she thought she would never, ever feel again after the death of Alderaan. It feels so unreal and dream-like. She draws a long breath, feeling thankful she can even have the opportunity to do so, and lets the cool refreshing air wash through her. She thought nothing could ruin this.

But the tears came nonetheless, like they always do, rolling silently down her cheeks as she stands at the basin in her Bespin quarter's refresher. The tears which tell her that she can never have such a simple life as this, that she would be back with the fleet in less than a few days. She wonders what it would be like to live here. To forget the Empire, the Rebellion and everything which is war and death. She so desperately wants to stay, in this perfect city with her perfectly calm life, with _Han_, and no Empire. She feels so alive, so free and it hurts her beyond words, until she becomes numb.

They have been leading such a structured life. Every day she wakes up, in a sunlit room, with her clothes neatly folded at the foot of her bed. Sometimes she would wake to find Han kneeling at the edge of her bed with his arms folded, with that infuriating grin which she knew can only be a result of her dishevelled hair. They would go for breakfast, check on the _Falcon_, walk around the City, find somewhere to eat, go back to the _Falcon_ then waste the afternoon away doing whatever they felt like. She doesn't want to think how long it had been since she had done that.

His voice is behind her then, distant and soft behind the 'fresher door. And it brings fresh tears to her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She's thankful he cannot see her, how weak he's made her. She splashes cold water on her face and retrieves a towel from the side bringing it to her eyes. She pads the material down her face and straightens her dress before opening the door.

And then he's there. Watching her, smiling. Oblivious to the stinging fatigue in her eyes. He doesn't say anything, only takes her hand in his and holds it quietly. They remain in a pleasant silence. She tries to ignore the insistent hollow feeling which catches her every time she looks at him but then he bends down, cupping her cheek in one hand and kisses her gently. She closes her eyes, fighting back all the damned thoughts of the future she would rather not face and she lets him lead her through the door into the dim city lights to find somewhere to eat.

With his arm around her waist she leans into his side as they walk, wishing they could stay here forever.


	22. Once a Jedi

A/N: And now for something a little different.

**The Carbon Freezing.**

He can see it in the Princess' eyes. Ones that look so familiar. Why, _why, why_ do they look familiar? He can see what he's doing to her, the way her heart strings are pinging one by one as he takes her only hope and saviour away. But valiantly his mask hides those so worn emotions and allows that screaming Jedi, fists pounding against the durasteel, to remain trapped and watching through the eyes of a Sith Lord.

It's like Déjà vu. Only this time the painful, circuit wrenching memories that haunt him are of a noble Jedi who he disembodied a life-time and a half ago. That time when he and _his _Princess were sent to their deaths. When the only thing they could do was admit their unconditional love for each other as the orange light descended on their faces. Why does the Galaxy have to be so cruel? _Play it through for me, why don't you?_ Remind him of all he has lost, all that he did to try and keep _her_ safe. He cannot remember her name. Or so he likes to think. When secretly her name is indented into every circuit in his system. Don't say it. It might be too painful.

Then the Bounty Hunter interrupts him and his gaze his snapped, shattered and gone. His strong command his back. Feigned once again, and he says something about Empire and compensation. He can't remember anymore. He turns back to the Captain and _his_ Princess and his breathing takes on the pattern of a breaking comm signal. But before his emotions and the smirk of the Bounty Hunter can surface, he waves a hand and tells them to rid his gaze of the too painful sight of the too painful memory.

Though now, the Galaxy has decided that isn't enough, and believes this Sith should be tortured one last time for what he has done. The Wookiee is fighting for his only true cause. Fighting a barbaric custom through chains and cuffs. And then the cheers and roars of a thousand spectators suddenly flood the contours of the Sith's mind and he is forced back into a past he would rather forget. Another memory of that boy he once knew.

The Bounty Hunter lifts his blaster towards the droid and that fist-pounding Jedi breaks through, swiping the weapon from the protocol's face. _Don't shoot the droid. It was there. It's the only connection he has left to his Princess._

Then all in a moment the Captain is there, standing on that smoke filled platform and the Galaxy is being repaid for what it has done to its so precious Jedi. He watches one more Princess' heart break, but it holds no compensation for what he did. And somewhere within the rusted wires of his chest he hopes the Princess will rescue the man she was never meant to be with. Because it's what should have happened the first time and no one should ever be subjected to that pain.

_I know._

And he agrees. Because he knows that once upon a time _his_ Princess did love him. But now that time is gone.


	23. Never Let Them

**Aldera Royal Palace. 13BBY.**

She is six years old when it happens.

There is a light in the sky. Tumbling, shattering through the nothingness of the night, and the Princess' eyes flutter as the brilliant glow assaults her gaze. She is too young to know, or to wonder what she has just witnessed through her viewport. She sits so still, don in her white night dress, legs tucked beneath her weight watching the flickering lights cascade and drift into Alderaan's atmosphere. She traces the tiny flames with her tiny fingers on the glass and sings an old Aldaraanian lullaby Breha had once taught her. She wonders if such beauty is a result of mythical creatures or heroes. She is wrong.

An hour later there is a soft whack and her walls are suddenly bathed in an orange-gold glow. Leia turns to find her father, Bail Organa, stood at her chamber door. She jumps ever so slightly, tugging at her nightdress, knowing full well she was meant to be asleep at dusk. But where he would have normally enquired on her insomnia, he smiles half-heartedly, moving across the room in one fluid motion to his daughter's side. She is sat, bundled in blankets and holding her stuffed Tauntaun doll when he sweeps her up into his arms. Confused, she whispers and asks with a small grin if he saw the light and points to the sky.

He looks to the distance. Then nods. Twice.

A silence hangs in the air and he is subconsciously rocking his daughter before she props herself up in the crook of his arm and asks what could be wrong. Eyes pained and honest, he kisses her forehead before stringing his words. He tells her that smugglers have destroyed an in-coming ship, and with it killing a close friend of the family. A member of the Alderaanian courts and his daughter. Only Leia's age, a friend the Princess had grown to adore in their royal visits. They would play endless games, hiding in the royal gardens, weaving in amongst the trees and rivers. One of the only times she was truly allowed to be a child.

The shaking is instant. It starts in her hands, gripping to the worn Tauntaun doll and travels to her jaw, the tears gently trickling down her cheeks. She cannot understand how something which could look so beautiful be so tragic, nor how something so close could be taken away from her. She buries her face in her father's neck and the rocking starts again, more pronounced this time and he whispers comforting sounds into her hair.

But she wants to blast the lot of them, through her glassy eyes and heartbreak. Smugglers. They are un-thinking, barbaric, cruel and reckless and she wishes fervently that they could be the ones who are now floating through the vacuum in a thousand tiny pieces.

She is barely aware of being lifted from the viewport, or when her bed covers are pulled gently around her shoulders. Her doll is tucked into the hollow of her neck, and she smiles weakly wrapping her arms around it. Her room is sunk into shadows again and a chair is drawn to her bedside. She opens her tired and drown eyes and finds her father by her side. He brushes his hand through her hair and she asks, please, for him not to leave her in case they come and get her too.

He promises that he will never let them hurt his Little Leia and he stays by her bedside watching her sleep, demons haunting her dreams.


End file.
